"Belle scarpe, comunque"

Questo il commento che Warhol fece andandosene via stizzito dopo aver ascoltato Bowie eseguire la canzone "Warhol". Chissa' come,* ma mi ero sempre superficialmente (sai che novita') immaginato che Bowie, se non proprio della cricca, fosse comunque per lo meno bene accetto da Andy Warhol.

Invece no, per lo meno stando alla storia raccontata in questo post di Momus (and don't forget to check the comments) in cui si da' appunto conto del loro primo, a quanto pare disastroso incontro nel 1971. Momus ha questa teoria:

The disconnect isn't surprising. These two men come from different continents, different sexual orientations, different generations, different metiers. They're essentially living in different decades, with different conceptions of cool. Look at the way they're dressed. Bowie is essentially still a 1960s-style hippy. With his long hair and his bipperty-bopperty hat he's put together (in front of mirrors in Edwardian pile Haddon Hall in Beckenham) a combination of Wildean 1890s aestheticism, Greta Garbo glamour, pan-sexuality and hippy activism. Warhol and his entourage, on the other hand, already look like 1980s artist-as-businessman yuppies. (You just have to listen to the Velvet Underground to hear the New York attitude towards tender-minded, effeminate hippies. Kill them, basically.) ... There's a sexuality-style mismatch here too. Like an orientalist Western man trying to impress a Japanese girl by turning up to their date in kabuki clothes, only to find she tends to date Japanese men who wear Western business suits, Bowie has made completely the wrong move by arriving at The Factory looking like a woman. While a straight man may think it's gay-friendly to express his feminine side, most gay men recoil in horror from femme style. What they mostly appreciate is machismo. If they liked effeminate creatures, after all, they'd be into women.-

* In realta' un po' di ragioni ci sono. Stupidamente pensavo che l'aver appunto scritto "Warhol" fosse un punto a favore di Bowie e invece non fu affatto cosi'. Eppoi mi sono fatto ancora una volta fregare da una fantomatica proprieta' transitiva delle amicizie (Warhol-Reed-Bowie). Questo delle note a pie' di pagina e' un pericoloso vizio. In cui sto cascando. Per la seconda (terza, quarta, quinta ...) volta. Nella mia vita.

(thx Vale for online troubleshooting)